


A Promise Kept

by DoctorTrekLock



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Gen, Latin, Nightingale also likes crossword puzzles, Nightingale gets serious, Yuletide, Yuletide Treat, apprentice!Abigail, no tea was hurt in the making of this fic, only a mention but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: “Actually, Peter.” Nightingale’s voice was almost too casual. “I was thinking you could teach her.”





	A Promise Kept

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greenbucket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenbucket/gifts).



> This fic is a treat for greenbucket, who had a lovely prompt that came through my inbox. I couldn’t resist. :-) I hope you enjoy it. Happy Yuletide!
> 
> I'll tell you who my betas are later, but suffice to say there are two and they are lovely. ;-)
> 
> EDIT: As always, my marvelous betas are ImprobableDreams900 and Spinner12.

“So you’ve done a bit of Greek as well?” I heard a male voice say as I made my way down the last flight of stairs.

“I had some time, and after the _Aeneid_ , I really needed to read about Penelope again. So I learned enough to properly read the _Odyssey_ ,” a higher voice responded confidently.

I had already missed pretty much the whole meal, but I hurried the last few steps into the breakfast room nevertheless. Molly stared at me as I stepped carefully around where she was pouring a third cup of tea and managed to squeeze into a chair next to my governor and across from my cousin before she set the teacup down in front of me with a sharp clack.

I gave Molly an apologetic smile, to which she simply tightened her lips and whirled away, though her skirt didn’t swoosh too angrily, so I figured she’d forgiven me for my tardiness.

Across the table from me, Abigail was nearly vibrating in her seat. Nightingale was calmer, but in the very precise way he had that meant he was putting a lot of effort into not looking excited.

I shot them both a suspicious look and took a sip of my tea. “What’s going on here?”

“Inspector Nightingale’s going to start teaching me magic,” Abigail burst out.

I choked on my tea.

I breathed through it a bit and took another drink to get my throat working properly again. “Really?” I asked her weakly. “That’s great.”

Nightingale’s mouth quirked up on one side. He had a copy of the _Times_  folded next to his empty plate, and I could see a crossword puzzle on top with a few words already filled in. He casually picked up his pen (Yes, _pen_ ; the man has no fear, I tell you) and started contemplating 32-across, the tip of his pen tapping the clue.

“Actually, Peter.” His voice was almost too casual. I made sure my teacup was firmly on the saucer. “I was thinking you could teach her.”

I couldn’t tell if the room went completely silent or not. Molly had started collecting Abigail’s plate and silverware, but she could be silent about it when it suited her. It was either quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop, or there was just an unholy amount of buzzing in my ears.

After a moment I could hear my own stuttering breathing again and figured it had probably been the ears thing. I gulped around the threat of nervous laughter bubbling in my throat. “Really, sir?” I was sure it came out a bit weakly. And a bit desperate.

Nightingale just absently tapped the end of his pen on the newspaper, still studying the puzzle. “Yes, really.”

I exchanged a look with Abigail. Her enthusiasm over learning magic seemed to have been dampened slightly by the knowledge that I, not Nightingale, would be the one to teach her the _formae_.

I cleared my throat. “Is there any particular reason?”

Nightingale set down his pen, folded his hands in front of him on the table (“Thank you, Molly,” he said absently as she cleared his plate away), and leveled a serious look at me.

“Peter. You have been my apprentice for four years now. Three years ago, you promised the young woman sitting here—” he indicated Abigail with a tilt of his head “—that she would be able to learn magic upon satisfactorily receiving a GCSE A* level in Latin. She has reached that bar admirably and, in fact, has a better command of the language than you likely ever will. As you know, oaths and promises carry great weight, and you should never promise something you are not prepared to give.”

I had a sinking feeling that this was going to end poorly for me. I’d been raised to take responsibility for the consequences of my actions, but it’s one thing to have to tell your boss you may have made a poor knee-jerk decision, and another to have that mistake come home to roost for at least ten years. This is why I’ve always been a great advocate of contraceptives.

Nightingale seemed to know what was going through my head, because he gave me another quirky smile. “I would, of course, not entrust Ms. Kamara’s entire training to you.”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be reassured or insulted by that, but I decided to go with the former.

“Students at Casterbrook and apprentices at the Folly proper were always educated by at least two fully fledged wizards, and there is no reason to halt that tradition simply because you are not entirely trained yourself.

“However—” Nightingale’s eyes were serious again “—the care and keeping of an apprentice is a grave undertaking and not to be taken lightly.”

I had a feeling he had forgotten Abigail was in the room at all.

After a moment, I realized he wasn’t going to say anything else and was waiting for a response from me. “Yes, sir.”

He studied my face for a minute, then nodded slightly and sat back in his chair, picking up his pen again.

I blinked, and the room seemed palpably brighter with Nightingale’s eyes off me. I glanced across the table and Abigail looked a bit taken aback, but she gave me a tentative smile when our eyes met. I guess she wasn’t too put out by having to learn magic from me.

I reached for my teacup again, but realized Molly must have cleared it away while Nightingale was putting the fear of Newton in me. Apparently when you were fifteen minutes late to breakfast, you didn’t warrant more than half a cup of tea.

Nightingale quickly lettered “Byzantine” in 12-down, then looked up at the pair of us. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

“What, _now?_ ” I asked him.

“No time like the present,” he said serenely.

“Right. Well, then.” I took a moment to stare at the table and gather myself before looking back at my cousin. “Abigail?” I asked her as I stood up. “You wanna go learn some magic?”

She shot up from the table with renewed excitement. “Let’s go!”

I could have sworn Nightingale chuckled at us as we left the room, but I didn’t look back to see if I was imagining it or not.

I led Abigail upstairs to one of the teaching labs and made sure she turned her phone off.

“All right, now watch closely and try to _feel_  what I’m doing,” I told her, holding out my fist.

I figured she’d absorbed most of this by osmosis already, because she tried to throw me an unimpressed look but had trouble around her grin.

I opened my hand. “ _Lux_.”


End file.
